


I Know It's Gotta Stop Love, But I Don't Know How

by needs_no_army



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 14:16:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1747598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/needs_no_army/pseuds/needs_no_army
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellarke fic. I guess it's a sort of AU because it doesn't follow the plot of the show after 1X10</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know It's Gotta Stop Love, But I Don't Know How

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song "New Ceremony" by Dry the River

"Maybe I'm too busy being yours  
To fall for somebody new"  
\--The Arctic Monkeys

"Clarke." She wondered when exactly it was when he stopped calling her Princess. Was it when she found out about Raven? Before they slept together? Back when Bellamy began to use it as well? It wasn't as though she wanted the demeaning nickname, but sometimes, right now especially, she needed to be on the defensive with Finn. She needed something that allowed her to let loose of just a tiny bit of her anger. "Clarke, I need to talk to you."  
She didn't want to hear what he had to say. Yet, she turned around anyway because she couldn't be angry about this. And when that failed, she couldn't appear angry. "Is everything okay, Finn?" She didn't mean the bitterness in her voice when she said his name, she didn't (she did).  
He flinched, she pretended not to see. "Raven and I..." her fists clenched reflexively, "we're done."  
His words hit like bricks. "I'm sorry," she managed to choke out.  
He grabbed her hand and she was distracted, but it was only by the fact that his touch somehow felt wrong. That night--maybe even before that-- it had felt so good, like something she had needed in order to breathe. It no longer felt like that. It felt like...pressure on her hand.  
She was forced from her revery by his soft words. "I am too, for Raven, but Clarke..."  
"I'm sorry," she repeated.  
Trust, she thought, that's what's different. Before, she had trusted Finn completely--she had trusted him with herself. But now she may never be able to trust him again.  
She couldn't trust him to be faithful.  
She couldn't trust him to keep her safe.  
She could never be sure if he ever loved her (she thought he had).  
"Clarke," he sputtered. He hadn't expected this. That she wouldn't rush into his arms at the news that he was free now. Free to be with her.  
"What we had--"  
"--Please," he begged her stop.  
"It was just--"  
"--Clarke."  
"Finn, it was just physical," she spat out the last word.  
He was silent.  
She untangled her fingers from his and continued, "it was lust. Never anything more than that." She was lying but she hoped that he couldn't (could) tell. "I never planned for it to end up this way. I never meant to hurt you. You should be with Raven." His lips parted as if to say her name again. "Don't give up on her." (Me).  
"She gave up on me," he said softly, and somehow it added to her list of injuries.  
"Oh."  
"Yeah."  
"I'm sorry."  
"I'm not, though."  
"I don't--"  
"--believe me, Clarke."  
"I should go," she turned on the already well beaten path towards the drop ship.  
"Just talk to me."  
"Let me go, Finn."  
"Not until you talk to me. Please, I know it was something more than just physical. Please."  
"Finn, let go of my arm!" She was making a scene, but she didn't care. She just had to get away, clear her head. Heads turned towards them.  
It was Jasper that finally sauntered over and said, "just let her go, man." There was a certain confidence about him that wasn't there when they first landed. Power in his stance, determination in his eyes. The awkward boy who had wanted nothing more than to not seem like a wimp in front of Octavia Blake was unrecognizable. Yet, there was something familiar about this new Jasper. Something that would not be disobeyed.  
"Fine," Finn said dejectedly and let go of her arm at last. "Sorry, Clarke," he mumbled, sounding like he was sorry for more than the scene that had just transpired, but Clarke ignored the implications.  
"It's okay," she turned on her heals and walked into the forest.

 

Sorry. They had both used the word so many times, now, that it had lost its meaning and had begun to sound like gibberish in her ears.  
Accidentally touched her hand while picking berries? Sorry.  
Elbowed him in the side when turning around? Sorry.  
Had used her to cheat on his girlfriend? Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry.  
It's okay.  
She followed the faint trail on the ground, having no idea where to head. She had favorite places, sure, but all of them reminded her of him. The forest wasn't full of trees, it was full of accidental touches, secret smiles, deep conversations between just them. Finn had stolen the forest from her; he had taken the bark and the leaves and the rock and the earth and the water and the clouds. The wonder of Earth was gone and she longed to go back to the Ark-- to the sky.  
On the Ark she had always been safe. There was no Grounder army threatening to invade at any moment. She had never found herself with someone else's life in her hands. She never found her heart in someone else's hands.  
She needed somewhere new, she realized. A spot just for her and could be associated with no one else. She turned off the newly-formed road made by hunters and berry-pickers, supply gatherers and good-timers who needed to get the hell out of camp. It was stupid to leave the camp alone with no one knowing where she went, but she just couldn't find it within herself to care.  
"That was quite a show there, Princess," a voice came from behind her, causing her to start. There leaning against a tree, seeming completely at ease, as though the world belonged to him, was none other than Bellamy. And slung over his shoulder was a very large gun. She worried briefly that he had come to shoot her. They had a tentative alliance, but she had learned to never trust someone like Bellamy Blake. She pushed the thought aside.  
"You saw that?"  
"Everyone saw that," He seemed amused, "and if they didn't they certainly heard about it. You and Skywalker are the talk of the town." She groaned and there was that half smile again. He really was enjoying this.  
"What are you doing here, Bellamy?"  
His smile faded and he continued seriously, "I followed you. You shouldn't go into the woods alone, Clarke."  
"I needed some time by myself."  
"Whatever is going on between you and Finn isn't worth getting killed over. We're at war, remember?"  
And with that, she finally snapped. "Yes I remember. How could I forget when everyday there are more people who have to be sown back together? When I've given the orders to have people tortured? When I've learned how to use a gun and watched as a bomb was made? And everyday I have to pretend to be strong, to know what I'm doing, to not be falling apart. I try my best to be a good person but every decision I make, I feel my soul getting darker. I remember."  
She tried to compose herself, to put back together the little pieces of herself that had been thrown in this explosion of emotion. The only sounds were the subtle noises of the wood around them. Say something, she begged silently. Retaliate. She needed a fight; something to stand up to so she didn't feel so weak.  
But then he surprised her in the way that only Bellamy could: instead of arguing he just said, "I'm sorry." There was no leer, no "princess." Just apologizing.  
"Don't," she spat around her emotion, "don't say sorry."  
"Okay, princess." He was humoring her. She hated him for it.  
"I can handle myself, you know. You didn't need to follow me."  
"Yes, I did."  
"God! You're always trying to control everything," she should stop then, she knew, "the more you try to control someone, the more they will resent you for it. Maybe that's why Octavia hates you so much!"  
He immediately reacted. A muscle in his jaw worked and his brown eyes lit on fire. Maybe it made her terrible, but she was a little relieved by the reaction she had enticed. It made her feel as though there was still one thing in this world she knew how to manipulate. She knew exactly what buttons to push to make him angry.  
She expected him to get in her face, to scream at her, maybe even hit her, almost definitely walk away. As it was, though, he stayed there, with his back against the bark and his arms crossed causing his shirt to stretch out ever so slightly over his chest and broad shoulders.  
They both were silent and Clarke didn't know whether to feel guilty or try again. As though he could read her mind, Bellamy chose that moment to speak. "I know what you're trying to do, Clarke. You are trying to make me walk away from you. But no can do, princess, because you are the only thing close to a doctor we have here and if I let you go off gallivanting in the forest by yourself, you might die. Which means we all will probably die. Which makes you a resource that need to be protected and I have a fair amount of muscle and a very large gun."  
"I'm not a princess," she mutters.  
He ignored her, "where ever you go, Cheyenne and I come too," he began to pet his gun affectionately.  
"You named your gun?"  
"I'm going to bet that me and this gun will have a very close relationship before all of this is over," he said soberly.  
She had to agree.

**Author's Note:**

> So Clarke is still really into Finn at this point (you can't just turn off your feelings, right?) But I promise there will be Bellamy/Clarke romance later on, as promised in tags! It's my first ever posted work so bear with me...


End file.
